


horrorscopes round one

by bentnotbroken1



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Blood, Buried Alive, Dubious Consent, Horror, M/M, Monsters, Nightmares, Violence, Whump, basically all of us emo clowns wanted to write some scary shit, dead bodies, murder boyfriends, open endings, some unhappy endings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:48:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23321212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bentnotbroken1/pseuds/bentnotbroken1
Summary: A collection of fics for horrorscopes round one.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 27
Kudos: 46
Collections: Horrorscopes





	1. okay, but what is this, exactly?

Horrorscopes (horror + horoscopes) is a group prompt project where a bunch of fic writers got together to challenge ourselves to write horror ficlets and how we did this was we picked a horoscope from the horoscope list made by um_no_thanks to use as inspiration + 3 words from the word list we all added to.

Here is the horoscope list made by um_no_thanks:

**Modes:**

_Cardinal:_ the first embers of an idea - active, restless nature, act on desire

 _Mutable:_ the fuel that keeps it going - adaptability, communication of ideas and thought

 _Fixed:_ the ones who bring it to a blaze - resist change, fixed purpose and will power

**Elements:**

_Fire:_ Action, light, enthusiasm, love, passion, zeal, courage, spirituality, individuality, destruction, temperamental.

 _Earth:_ Well-grounded, solid foundation, realistic, practical, the builders who do things slowly but surely, control.

 _Air:_ powerful force, ideas into action, detached from earthly things, analytical, mental strength,

 _Water:_ sensitive to emotions, security, vast like the sea but also changing like the tides. 

**Aries - The Infant**

Modality: Cardinal

Element: Fire

Ruler: Mars 

Season: Spring

1st Sign of Zodiac

Metal: Iron

Stone: Amethyst, Diamond

Color: Red

Anatomy: Head, face.

Key Phrase: “I am”

Keywords: active, initiating, leading, independent, aggressive, impatient, combative, energetic, pioneering, naive, assertive

**Taurus - The Baby**

Modality: Fixed

Element: Earth

Ruler: Venus 

Season: Spring

2nd Sign of Zodiac

Metal: Copper

Stone: Emerald

Color: Green

Anatomy: Neck, throat

Key Phrase: “I have”

Keywords: persevering, down-to-earth, stable, stubborn, possessive, prosperous, dependable, physical, sensual

**Gemini - The Child**

Modality: Mutable

Element: Air

Ruler: Mercury

Season: Spring

3rd Sign of Zodiac

Metal: Mercury

Stone: Agate

Color: Yellow 

Anatomy: Hands and arms; lungs.

Key Phrase: “I think”

Keywords: talkative, mental, adaptable, flexible, changeable, responsive, sociable, superficial, versatile, inquisitive

**Cancer - The Adolescent/The ‘Mother’**

Modality: Cardinal

Element: Water

Ruler: the Moon

Season: Summer

4th Sign of Zodiac

Metal: Silver

Stone: Pearl, Opal

Color: White, Yellow

Anatomy: Breasts, stomach

Key Phrase: “I feel”

Keywords: gentle, conservative, feeling, nurturing, defensive, contemplative

**Leo - The Teenager**

Modality: Fixed

Element: Fire

Ruler: The Sun

Season: Summer

5th Sign of Zodiac

Metal: Gold

Stone: Ruby

Color: Orange, Gold

Anatomy: The heart

Key Phrase: “I will”

Keywords: magnanimous, generous, hospitable, caring, warm, authoritative, active, open

**Virgo - The Adult**

Modality: Mutable

Element: Earth

Ruler: Mercury

Season: Summer

6th Sign of Zodiac

Metal: Mercury

Stone: Sapphire

Color: Blue, Beige

Anatomy: Intestines, the nervous system

Key Phrase: “I analyze”

Keywords: analytical, intelligent, reserved, critical, helpful, conscientious

**Libra - The Judge**

Modality: Cardinal

Element: Air

Ruler: Venus

Season: Fall

7th Sign of Zodiac

Metal: Copper

Stone: Diamond, Quartz, Marble

Color: Pastel Green

Anatomy: Kidneys

Key Phrase: “I balance”

Keywords: just, sociable, refined, accommodating, kind, fair, diplomatic, likable, indecisive, respectful, artistic

**Scorpio - The Detective**

Modality: Fixed

Element: Water

Ruler: Pluto, Mars

Season: Fall

8th Sign of Zodiac

Metal: Steel, Iron

Stone: Topaz, Opal

Color: Gold, Purple

Anatomy: Genital organs, bladder, bowels

Key Phrase: “I desire”

Keywords: passionate, perceptive, resourceful, possessive, psychological, prowling, determined, probing, fixed, focused, resurrection/rebirth

**Sagittarius - The Traveler**

Modality: Mutable

Element: Fire

Ruler: Jupiter

Season: Fall

9th Sign of Zodiac

Metal: Tin

Stone: Topaz

Color: Turquoise

Anatomy: Hips, Thighs, Muscles

Key Phrase: “I see”

Keywords: optimistic, restless, enthusiastic, adventurous, honest, irresponsible, outspoken, independent 

**Capricorn - The ‘Father’/The CEO**

Modality: Cardinal

Element: Earth

Ruler: Saturn

Season: Winter

10th Sign of Zodiac

Metal: Lead

Stone: Amber, Onyx

Color: Purple, Brown

Anatomy: The knee, bones, skeleton

Key Phrase: “I use”

Keywords: tenacious, conservative, resourceful, disciplined, wise, ambitious, prudent, constant.

**Aquarius - The Weird Aunt**

Modality: Fixed

Element: Air

Ruler: Uranus

Season: Winter

11th Sign of Zodiac

Metal: Uranium

Stone: Amethyst

Color: Sky Blue

Anatomy: Ankles, shins, circulation

Key Phrase: “I know”

Keywords: individualistic, assertive, independent, humanitarian, inventive, original, eccentric, opinionated, intellectual, idealistic, cool, friendly, detached

**Pisces - The Elder**

Modality: Mutable

Element: Water

Ruler: Neptune

Season: Winter

12th Sign of Zodiac

Metal: Tin

Stone: Jade, Coral

Color: Sea Green

Anatomy: Feet, Veins

Key Phrase: “I believe”

Keywords: intuitive, dreamy, artistic, humane, sympathetic, sensitive, compassionate, perceptive, tender, impressionable

And here is the word list. 

**word list:**

-immortalitylost's words: Crawl, Slough, Masticate 

-um-no-thanks' words: Carcass, Throat, Purge

lucdarling's words: Bone, Hood, Shackle 

-gideongrace's words: Rubatosis, Blood, Charred

-bentnotbroken1's words: Delusion, Hollow, Dread

-greyspilot's words: Decay, Flesh, Empty

We're all really excited about this project and we hope you enjoy reading these horror fics as much as we've enjoyed writing them!


	2. um_no_thanks: where are you?

**Pisces | empty, flesh, decay**

Five ignored phone calls and two long voicemails later, Billy has decided that enough is enough. Fuck Harrington if he thinks he can ignore him. He’s just going to go over there and give Steve a piece of his mind. No more of this cold shoulder bullshit, he isn’t _Nancy_ , he’s Billy _fucking_ Hargrove and he’s not standing for this shit.

“Knew you were home, fucker,” Billy mutters when he pulls up to the Harrington house lit up like a Christmas tree and Steve’s BMW parked out front.

Billy shoves his door open and storms up the driveway. 

“Harrington!” he shouts, pounding his fist against the door. “Open up!” 

He knocks again after a minute when there’s no answer and tries the doorknob. He’s never been so thankful that all these dumbass hicks are so trusting when he finds it unlocked. The door swings open with a dull creak and he steps inside.

“Hello?” He steps into the hall and looks around. 

Everything looks the same as it usually does— untouched, **empty,** soulless. Only the blanket crumpled up over the arm of the couch and the textbook left out on the coffee table shows that somebody actually lives here. 

“I know you’re home, Harrington!” Billy’s voice echoes off the walls as he climbs up the staircase. 

Sure that he’ll find him in his room, Billy bursts in without pause but there’s no sign of Steve in there either. Even his bed is made, all the corners tucked in and tidy. 

Where the fuck is he? 

Billy peers around the room, searches the closet, even checks under the bed just in case but no luck. Defeated, he slumps against the window and presses his forehead against the cool glass.

Fuck, maybe he really did fuck up this time. This is what they _do_ though. Steve gets pissed when Billy is an asshole and he goes off and sulks until Billy crawls back like the whipped little bitch that he is, they have mind blowing makeup sex, and then they start the cycle all over again. 

But Steve’s car is here so where the fuck _is_ he?

He groans and stares down at the pool down below where steam hovers invitingly over the blue water.

 _Maybe he walked to the Quarry,_ Billy thinks and takes one step towards the door to leave when something catches his eye. He squints.

Seriously? He’s _swimming?_

Billy stomps back downstairs and crosses the living room, flinging the sliding door open with a huff. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” He growls, glaring down at the body bobbing in the pool but the closer he gets, the more details appear through the steam. 

Dark hair spilling out in a halo, pink sweater gone red with water-log, limbs hanging limp and body floating face down in the water.

Billy freezes. 

They’re _not moving._

“...Steve?” He tries to take a step closer but his legs feel like lead. “Baby?”

The pool lights buzz in the silence, mixing in with the thundering beat of his pulse in his ears. 

_No, no, no._

“This isn’t funny.” He swallows. “Steve, if you’re fucking with me—”

“Dead.”

“Jesus fuck!” Billy nearly jumps out of his skin at the quiet voice. He whirls around, every muscle electrified.

Someone is curled up on the ground behind him. Billy nearly doubles over with relief when he recognizes Steve’s face in the dark. “Fuckin’ hell, you scared me. Didn’t you hear me calling you?”

Steve doesn’t respond. His arms are wrapped around his knees protectively, huddled in a ball against the house. He’s staring vacantly at the pool. His lips are blue. “How long have you been out here?”

Nothing.

“Steve. Hey!” Billy snaps his fingers to get a reaction. Nothing, just silence and that same **empty** gaze. Billy’s not sure if Steve is even aware that he’s here. 

“Steve, baby,” his voice breaks, lowers, grows desperate, “what the fuck is going on?”

Billy’s change in tone seems to do the trick and he gets a slow blink. 

“Barb,” he croaks.

“What?” 

Billy turns back to look at the body in the pool.

He knows the story, has heard it in snippets passed around the halls of Hawkin’s High, shared around the lunch table like hot gossip. Barbara Holland, victim of a chemical spill from Hawkins Lab and some crazy government conspiracy.

But that had been over a year ago.

Billy picks up the net resting against the wall and walks to the edge of the water. He nudges a shoulder with the end of the pole, the metal sinking into soft muscle. The body dips under the surface at his prodding and he has to use both hands to flip her over.

Her jaw hangs open in a silent gasp. Her **flesh** is plump, _bloated,_ and her eyes stare lifelessly up at the sky, pearlescent like a dead fish. 

He doesn’t have much experience with decomposition but he’s sure about this.

This isn’t year old **decay**.

This is fresh.


	3. gideongrace: heart (break)

**blood + rubatosis + dread + aries (iron)**

There's a word for it. That's all Billy can think. There's a word for this feeling - he read it in a book once… it'd been such a weird word, he'd had to look it up…

That's all he can do when he finds Steve lying in the alley, covered in blood. Stand stock still like a complete and total fucking moron, thinking about how there's a word for everything, including the feeling of not being able to stop noticing the beating of your own heart.  _ Like that's what fucking matters right now. _

He takes a cautious step forward and hears the soles of his boots crunch wetly against the pavement, echoing in that unnervingly loud way every sound always does in a small town the instant the sun goes down and the lights go off. 

"Steve?" he says quietly, his own voice coming out sounding raspy and thin. Afraid. Like he's so afraid he's not even feeling it, rather only hearing it like it's an afterthought, a reverberation, something coming from somewhere other than himself. 

And Steve… he doesn't even say anything in response. He just grunts and barely manages to lift and turn his head to look over at the source of the noise, not that Billy's even sure Steve knows it's him, what with the way the eye Steve's turning towards him is practically swollen shut. 

And Billy, well, he knows a little something about bruises so he knows that in about a day or two Steve's going to have an awful one with big, fat, splotchy,  _ ugly _ patches of purple running all up and down the side of his face; right now though, the damage is fresh enough that it's only swelled up his face like a balloon from chin to eye rather swelling it up like a balloon  _ in addition to  _ making it discolored as well.

But, then… that's just the  _ bruises. _ Like all of this is happening and here Billy is focusing on the  _ bruises. _

"Hey, what…" The words ghost from Billy's lips as he moves towards Steve. He feels like he's trapped in one of those old zombie movies, one of the black and white ones made by George Romero, only like he's one of the zombies, instead of one of the heroes because there's nothing heroic about the slow, sad, shuffling steps he's taking towards Steve. 

Not that he can seem to move any faster, no matter how hard he tries and  _ boy, _ has he  _ tried. _ He's done everything he can think of up to and including threatening his own feet to move faster, listing off several different things he could do to them if they don't get their shit together and get him to Steve but it's doing him no good. He's forced to watch and to catalogue Steve's every wound and cut and bruise as his feet drag him forward inch by cursed inch as slow as the living dead. Slower, maybe.

And Billy certainly  _ feels _ like he's about to die, what with the way every part of him is shaking inside and out, what with the way his whole body is drenched in a cold sweat he would swear wasn't there a minute ago and the way he feels like he's sucking in water rather than air. 

He can't even finish saying, "Hey, what happened? Who did this?" 

He feels like he's losing track of his words, losing track of his thoughts, and then in the second between one blink and the next, he does and all he can see is Steve lying there before him, staring up with his one good eye, his chest heaving with the effort every single breath is costing him.

"Steve… I…" Billy whispers as he sinks to his knees in front of him. "What…" He drags Steve up into his lap by the shoulders and Steve's face pinches and twists, his eyes clench shut so hard even the swollen one shudders and his breathing goes as sharp and as ragged as if he'd just run a mile for the first time in a year. 

Billy sits and helplessly counts his thundering heartbeats as he waits for Steve's breathing to stop rattling through him like a freight train has decided to up and lay tracks across his chest.

But it doesn't happen.

Instead, it just gets worse and worse and _worse_ and Steve opens up his one good eye to stare at him, wordlessly pleading, begging, not for Billy to stay, no, Billy's stared at this face long enough to be able to read it even when Steve can't speak and right now, he isn't saying _help me,_ he isn't saying _why didn't you save me,_ he isn't even saying _I love you,_ no, what Steve is saying right now, what Steve is shouting even with just this one look, is _run._ _Go. Get out of here._

Which is fucking ridiculous and has the exact opposite effect of its intent, has Billy clinging to Steve's shoulders and saying, "No, fuck that, I'm not going anywhere." 

Steve's rapid breathing switches tracks to become a wracking cough that has his whole body shaking and has Billy running his hands down Steve's body like if he could maybe just find the source of all this, find the worst of the injuries, if he could just find it he could… he could...

He could  _ what? _ They're sitting in an alley in the middle of Hawkins in the middle of the night and all Billy's got on him is his car keys, his smokes and his lighter and all his frantic searching gets him is hands that come away bloody.

"I… we have to…" Billy fumbles. He has to get Steve out of here, he has to… hospitals don't close, right? They don't, so - 

He starts to get to his feet, his knees grunting in protest after having sat on them in that awkward position for so long and he starts dragging Steve up with him, but Steve uses what little strength he has left to smack at his arm, telling him no, telling him to leave it. And he's still coughing, too, his whole body lurching with it; he's coughing so hard it makes Billy feel like  _ he's _ the one coughing, like he's the one… the one…

Dying.

No. This isn't -

Steve  _ can't. _

_ He can't -  _

Steve has blood on his lips. He's coughing so hard there's blood on his lips, flecks at first, then a flood, like the few drops of rain that hit before a torrential downpour.

"I'm getting you out of here," Billy snarls, overcome by more rage than he thinks he's ever felt. Because how dare he, they have a life together, they have a home together,  _ how dare he -  _

Steve, with the very last of his energy, the last of his life, raises a now ghostly pale hand towards the mouth of the alley and Billy smells it before he sees anything. 

Iron. The air suddenly tastes of iron. Iron and copper and blood. So much blood. 

Then he follows Steve's hand with his eyes and just before it falls, Billy sees something.

There, in the shadows at the mouth of the alley is something big and huge and deathly silent. Something with big, yellow eyes that glow in the dark. Eyes that hunger for - 

Before Billy has a chance to think of what, he hears Steve go silent, feels him slump against his chest, feels the wracking, rapid, freight train in motion of his breathing slow to a crawl then stop dead in its tracks. 

The monster howls and Billy doesn't bother to look at it. If Steve is gone, then - 

If Steve is  _ gone, _ then - 

Billy wakes up with a scream tearing itself from his throat and his heart pounding in his chest. 

He blinks, he takes a breath and he looks over to Steve's side of the bed, hoping for,  _ needing _ the reassurance seeing that beautiful face lit up by moonlight always gives him but -

Steve's side of the bed is empty. 


	4. bentnotbroken1: hawkins is quiet

**Words: Crawl, Dread, Throat**

**Sign: Aries**

There are a lot of things Billy dislikes about the tired state of Indiana, but the silence has to be the biggest one. 

It’s just...it's so _quiet_ in Hawkins. 

Especially after ten o'clock. It's like the whole damn town shuts down. The stores are closed, the streets are empty, and all the windows are darker than sin. 

Back in Cali there was _always_ something going on. There was a constant underlying noise, like traffic, or sirens, or _hell_ , people's _voices._ But not here. 

No, around here you'd be lucky to hear a cow moo in between an orchestra of rival crickets. 

Billy's pretty sure his Camaro holds the title of _loudest thing in town._ The reigning champion before him had probably been farmer Joe's combine down the road. 

And isn't that sad? It's a piece of _farming equipment._

So, yeah. Billy _hates_ it. 

That's why he's out _here_ , _away_ from the sleeping masses, kicking up dust and splitting knuckles, yelling his frustrations into the night sky. 

Maybe he's not giving this place enough credit. At least the trees don't judge him, don't tell him to shut up or calm down. They stare back at him silently, letting him get all the ugly out of his system. 

And he guesses that's kinda nice. There wasn't a place like this in Cali, where he could let it all go. Where he could be _alone._

So, maybe it isn't so bad after all?

A snap of twigs tears his attention away from the scarlet bark under his hands. 

_An_ _animal_ , he thinks, he _hopes._

But that hope is easily dashed when a low grumble reaches his ears. 

Now, dread is not a foreign concept to Billy, he feels it just about every day before he steps into his house, but it has never raised the hair on his neck, never stolen the breath from his lungs like this. 

His eyes scan what little treeline he can see in the beams of his headlights, but nothing moves. 

He weighs his options. 

The noise had come from a space between him and his car. So, he could either try to circle back around or just make a run for it. His chances of getting pounced on were probably greater with the latter… 

And well, fuck that. 

He dashes into the trees, trying not to trip over roots and logs in his path. Luckily the woods hide him in a cloak of darkness, so it would be nearly _impossible_ to see him, but...the shadows also hide whatever _else_ is out here, creeping, _stalking_ him through the underbrush. 

He runs until the path seems unfamiliar. He pauses, chest heaving, and looks around. He can still see a sliver of light where the Camaro sits, waiting for him. 

Panic crawls up from his gut. He can't go any farther or he'll get lost. He needs to head back, needs to get to the safety of leather and cigarette smoke. 

…Maybe he can make it? 

He tries. 

Pushes his legs harder than he ever has before. 

He's almost _there._ He can _see_ the clearing. 

Come on! 

And… 

What the _fucking hell_ is _that_? 

He doesn't know what he's looking at right now. It doesn't have fur...is more lizard looking, but it's definitely _not_ a lizard. They aren't this big, don't move like this thing does. 

Had that creepy lab he'd read about in the paper been mutating coyotes or something? Because this thing isn't any animal he's even ever seen. 

It doesn't even have a fucking _face.._

Just… _what the fuck?_

He backs away from it until he hits a tree and realizes that there is nowhere for him to go. He can't get away from it. Can't get away from this hell beast that is opening its maw wide. 

Wider… 

Jesus Christ. 

Its whole face splits apart and Billy can see thousands of _teeth._ And fuck… 

He's going to die. 

He snaps his eyes shut, doesn't want the last thing he sees to be this _creature_ tearing his _fucking throat out_ , but the needle sharp teeth never pierce his skin. 

Instead, a thick heat splatters across his face and copper coats his tongue. 

His eyes snap open, but he doesn't quite believe what he's seeing. 

A familiar silhouette is bending over the lifeless lump, using a muddy reebok to keep the thing still as they yank a…spiky bat out of its flesh. 

_What the fuck?_

" _Harrington_?" 

The boy looks down at him and rests the dripping bat on one shoulder, "Welcome to the _real_ Hawkins, Hargrove."


End file.
